Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud
by LissaMarie
Summary: A young girl brings some changes to Harm’s life as he and Mac grow closer.
1. Part 1

Title: Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud  
  
Author: LissaMarie   
  
Email: MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? Whatever…They're not mine.  
  
Category: A, R H/M  
  
Spoilers: I don't know…I'm not going to mention anything specific, but if you don't   
watch the show, you will be lost. This takes place before The Mission.  
  
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.  
  
Feedback: Always great, but never expected.  
  
Summery: A young girl brings some changes to Harm's life as he and Mac grow closer.  
  
***Author's Note #1: This story involves child abuse and the lasting effects it can have   
on even the strongest people. If this bothers you, please delete.***  
  
AN #2: "Mains froides, Coeur chaud" is French for "Cold hands, Warm heart."  
  
  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 1/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
2135 Hours Local  
Harding Household  
Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
Gwendolyn Harding sat at her kitchen table with her schoolbooks spread out in front of her.   
It was an image any parent would love to witness. A thirteen year old girl studiously looking   
over her science note, preparing for an exam still days away. It took the front door slamming   
to get the dedicated girl to look up from her work.  
  
"So you're at it with those damn books again," the short redheaded woman slurred as she stumbled   
into the house. "I don't see why you bother. You're never going anywhere. Do you think you're   
better than me because you're good in school? Do you think that knowing all those pointless science   
words is going to make you better than me?"  
  
"No, mama," Gwen replied closing her book and standing up. She could smell the alcohol   
from across the room and knew there was no logic that could help her at the moment. "I made   
some dinner if you're hungry."  
  
"If I were hungry, I'd make myself something to eat!" she shouted at her daughter. "What are   
you, some gourmet chef? Look at little Gwenie Harding; she's so smart and such a good cook.   
She's so much better than that mother of hers, Lydia, is such a loser. I had a future before you   
came along."  
  
Gwen closed her eyes expecting the blow before it even came. She fell down with the force of the   
strike on the side of her face. She waited until she heard the door close to succumb to the darkness   
that was beaconing her. 'Take her away,' was her last thought before she lost consciousness.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
One Week Later…  
  
1215 Hours Local  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
"Dishonorable discharge and 2 years confinement. He'll be home in 6 months," Lt. Col.   
Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie offered to the navy Commander sitting across from her. It was a nice   
day, so she and her opposing counsel decided to bring their discussion outside of the office.   
They were now both leaning across the outdoor, stubbornly presenting their cases. Since it was   
still really winter, there were very few people out in the courtyard to overhear them.  
  
"No confinement," he bargained. His client was adamant about not going to Leavenworth, but   
the Commander knew that if this case went to trial, that was exactly where he'd go. For a very long time.  
  
"He killed a superior officer because he 'made fun' of him. He's going to the brig no matter what!"   
Mac exclaimed with a look of almost amusement.  
  
"I'd accept whatever she's offering you, Sturgis," another navy commander offered sitting down at   
their table without waiting for an invitation.  
  
"Thank you, Harm. By all means, join us," Mac said to the newcomer sarcastically.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel. Are you discussing the Harrison case?" Cdr. Harmon Rabb, Jr. asked reaching   
to take a french fry from his partner's plate. She slapped his hand away playfully still allowing him   
to take one.  
  
"Yeah, and Cdr. Turner seems to believe he can win this case. It's cut and dry- he's guilty. Either the   
Petty Officer spends the next 10 to 20 in the brig if this goes to trial or just 6 months if they except   
the deal I have so kindly arranged for them," Mac explained rolling her eyes. "You know, Harm, there   
was a time that I would have said that you were the most stubborn man on the planet, but now   
I'm beginning to rethink that."  
  
"Thanks, Colonel," the tall African-American officer muttered without bothering to hide his sarcasm.   
He stood up and back away from the table. "I'll leave you two alone while I go confer with my client.   
Harm, Mac."  
  
"See you around, Sturgis," Harm said to his friend while Mac chose to wave having a mouth full   
of cheeseburger.  
  
"Later, buddy." With that, Cdr. Sturgis Turner walked toward the building.  
  
"That is really disgusting," Harm grimaced indicating the greasy burger on Mac's plate. His  
"practically-a-vegetarian" mind could not wrap itself around the idea of good tasting food coming   
from the carcass of a dead animal. The very idea of slaughtering an animal for food when there are   
so many more humane and healthy choices available was bordering on crazy (AN: If you haven't   
noticed, I'm a vegetarian).  
  
"You don't know what you're missing, sailor," she teased. She was enjoying the comfortable   
companionship that was coming back to them. She didn't realize exactly how much she   
had missed it until they had tried unsuccessfully to get it back a while back. Starting back at the   
beginning had been good for them both.  
  
"I don't want to know," Harm chuckled also enjoying the newfound friendship they had established.   
They smiled at one another until Harm's cell phone rang. "Excuse me," he said to Mac before   
answering. "Hello?"  
  
~~Hello, is this Cdr. Harmon Rabb, Jr.?~~  
  
"Yes, ma'am. How can I help you?" he responded to the woman on the other end.  
  
~~Cdr., I'm Susana Lopez with the Belleville Social Services. I'm calling to discuss a case of   
mine with you.~~  
  
"Of course, Ms. Lopez, anything to help." Harm shrugged in response to Mac's mouth question   
of what was going on.  
  
~~A week ago, a woman was killed in a drunk driving collision. She left behind a 13-year-old   
daughter named Gwendolyn. I'm hoping to place Gwen in the care of her father.~~  
  
"That's understandable, but I don't understand why you called me. What can I do?"  
  
~~You can come up here to Belleville. According to Gwendolyn, you are her father.~~  
  
Harm dropped the phone to the table and stared at it with wide eyes. Of all the things he had   
expected to happen today, this hadn't even made the list.  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 1 


	2. Part 2

See part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 2/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
Mac looked in shock at her best friend wondering what in the world the person   
on the other end of the line had said. She could imagine almost nothing that would   
have this effect on the ex-fighter pilot.  
  
"Harm?" she whispered without analyzing her reason for lowering her voice. She   
was afraid for the man she couldn't pin down her feelings for. Receiving no response   
save from the wrinkling of his forehead, she picked up his forgotten phone. "Hello, this   
is Cdr. Rabb's partner, Lt. Col. Mackenzie. With whom am I speaking?"  
  
~~Hello, I'm Susana Lopez, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would put the commander   
back on the line. This is very important.~~  
  
"Pertaining to what, exactly?"  
  
~~A girl named Gwendolyn Harding.~~  
  
"Who is Gwendolyn Harding?" Mac asked Harm in a low voice covering the receiver.  
  
Harm looked up suddenly as she said the name. Everything was beginning to make   
some kind of sense. He motioned for Mac to give him the phone, and she did so slowly   
still completely confused.  
  
"Her mother's name was Lydia, am I correct?" he asked Ms. Lopez.  
  
~~Yes, Cdr. Rabb. I know all this must come as a shock to you. Miss Harding told   
me the last time I spoke with her that she had never met her father. That he--you--didn't   
even know she existed.~~  
  
"No, I really didn't," Harm muttered angry at Lydia, himself, and the world for making him   
lose years with a girl that could be his daughter. "Could you give me an address, and I will   
be there as soon as possible."  
  
Susana Lopez gave Harm the street address, and he wrote it down on one of Mac's napkin.   
He hung up and stared at the phone in his hand trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.   
In a matter of minutes, his entire life had been altered. It was funny how, with everything going on   
in his life, it took just one phone call to turn it completely upside-down.  
  
"Harm, are you okay?" Mac asked gently. There was a tremble in her voice that showed her   
fear and concern for the man sitting next to her. Her first thought was that something had happened   
to his mother. His half-brother's paternity testing came to mind second. When she read the address   
that he had written down, she could think only of his beloved grandmother. She knew losing her would   
destroy him, and something happening to her was the only explanation she could come up with.  
  
Harm closed his eyes trying to think of a way to explain this to her. He most definitely did not want   
to talk about how his relationship with Lydia had been. How do you tell your best friend that you may   
have a child in her early teens that you never knew about? He and Mac we're just finding their way   
back to one another, and he knew handling this in the wrong way or leaving her out of it would be   
detrimental to their progress.   
  
"If Harrison goes to trial, when do you think it will be scheduled?" Harm asked opening his eyes and   
looking into hers.  
  
"Next week at the earliest. Why? What's going on Harm? Is your grandmother okay? And who are   
Gwendolyn and Lydia Harding?" Mac asked in a rush confused and afraid even more than before his   
question.  
  
"Good. Because I want you to go somewhere with me if you will. I'll explain on the way. She's great   
last I heard. And I'll also tell you that on the way. If the admiral gives you leave, will you come with me   
to Pennsylvania?" Harm answered all her questions before asking his own. He held his breath waiting   
for her response.  
  
"Of course, Harm. You know I will. Let's go see the admiral now." She stood up and reached out to help   
him up. She took his hand and let her pull him up. He smiled at her and together they walked toward the   
building each entertaining their own thoughts.   
  
Harm felt much more secure knowing he had his best friend's support, and Mac felt a ray of hope for their   
future knowing he was finally ready to open up to her.  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 2 


	3. Part 3

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 3/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
AN: ***indicates a flashback***  
  
1500 Hours Local  
Heading toward Belleville, PA  
Somewhere in Maryland  
  
"Okay, Harm. We've been in the car for about an hour, and you still haven't told me   
what's going on. I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you, but I would like to know   
why I took leave and am on my way to Belleville, Pennsylvania," Mac said firmly from   
the passenger seat. "Harm, you're scaring me. Are you okay?"  
  
Without bothering to answer her last question because he wasn't exactly sure, he began   
to tell her all he knew.  
  
"When I lost my wings, I had felt like my life was over. I was up at my grandma Sara's farm,   
and I wouldn't talk to anyone if it was at all avoidable. During the day, I'd work on 'Sara',   
and at night I'd usually go out and get as drunk as I could trying to forget. Trying to forget   
my friends death, my lost dream, the disappointment I thought my father would feel at seeing   
his son fail…I wanted it all to go away. Then I met this girl, Lydia. She was beautiful and just   
the distraction I needed at the time. I was actually with Diane at the time, but she was on   
deployment and part of me resented her for that. I didn't care about anyone at that time that   
wasn't me."  
  
***  
"Hey, hot-stuff. Care to buy a lady a drink?" a beautiful redheaded woman asked slipping   
into the seat next to a younger and very drunk Harm.  
  
"I don't think I could count out the money to buy you a drink at this point," Harm chuckled self-consciously.   
He had promised himself just hours before that he'd only have one beer this time, but now, 4 beers   
and 2 shots later, he was as drunk as he was when he dragged himself into his grandmother's house the   
night before.  
  
"Okay, then I guess I'll get myself one, and we can talk about what's got you down," she said seductively   
with a small smile. "I'm Lydia Harding."  
  
"Harm Rabb."  
  
"Well, Harm Rabb, what's driven you to drink your weight in alcohol tonight?"  
  
"Do you really want to know, Lydia Harding?"  
  
"I want to know everything there is to know about you, handsome."  
***  
  
"So I told her everything--about my father, my crash, my RIO…She was a really fun person. We   
started seeing each other frequently and got drunk as all hell just as often. Keeter came over with   
Luke and kicked my six back on track. I stopped seeing her, apologized to Diane who, for some   
reason, took my sorry six back, and started law school. I never even spoke to her again."  
  
"Why are you telling me all this?" Mac asked holding back tears. She couldn't admit to even herself   
how much hearing about him being with another woman--women--hurt her. Still, she had asked for it,   
really.  
  
"Lydia was killed a week ago in an automotive collision leaving behind a young daughter named   
Gwendolyn."  
  
"And you feel guilty about what you did to Lydia, so you're going to help her daughter?" Mac asked   
trying to figure out his motives behind going to Belleville for the death of a woman he hadn't spoken   
to in over a decade. None of it made sense, but knowing her partner, she could believe that he would   
do something like that.  
  
"Mac, there's a chance Gwendolyn is my daughter," Harm came right out and said. He had no   
idea of how else to do it. He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. Judging from the sharp gasp   
he heard from beside him, he suspected that maybe be hadn't taken the best approach. When he   
felt Mac's hand grip his, he realized that she wasn't going to leave him. He allowed himself to release   
the air from his lungs and take new in. He knew that as long as he had Mac by his side, he'd be okay.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
1730 Hours Local  
Belleville Social Services  
Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
Harm reached blindly for Mac's hand as they approached the aging building. Dressed in civilian   
clothing, they were much more comfortable with one another. He never realized how good it would   
feel to open up to someone. After telling her about his past, he had told Mac of his fear and anger   
and hope, and the thing that surprised him most was that she seemed to understand.  
  
Mac, for the most part, was just trying to keep her head from spinning. She felt for Harm. He had   
missed over ten years of the life of a child who could be his daughter. She knew how he would feel   
about that because of his own fatherless childhood. Her shock and happiness over him telling him   
talking about his feelings with her was not even describable. She only wished she could read his face   
as they walked up the front steps. Squeezing his hand reassuringly as they reached the door, she   
opened it and led the way in.  
  
The interior of the building itself was nothing spectacular. It was the stereotypical small town   
government building. Every bit off space was used for a specific purpose. There were some   
desks, a few of which had computers set on them. An ancient copy machine was set up in one   
corner. The back wall was formed by a set of small private offices. The room as a whole was   
sparsely decorated, no doubt the effect of not enough funding. In front of them was a larger desk   
placed in a position that made it appear to be a reception desk. Anyone guess was fair since   
there was no sign, and the gray haired woman sitting behind it was the only person still present   
in the main room.  
  
"Hi. Could you please tell us where we can find Susana Lopez?" Mac asked the older woman.  
  
"Miss Lopez's office is the last one on the right. Impossible to miss. Just go to the one with the   
light still on," the woman responded without looking away from her computer screen or stopping   
her typing.  
  
"Thank you," Harm frowned. Receiving nothing to even indicate that she had heard him, he and   
Mac headed toward the lit office. With hesitation that was hardly apparent, he knocked on the door   
and waited to be acknowledged.  
  
"It's open," Susana announced looking up from her work. Once she got a good look at the man   
who entered her office, she knew instantly who he was. "Cdr. Rabb, I'm glad you were able to   
get here so soon. Most people have trouble finding our town, but then again, I guess you've been   
here before."  
  
Susana Lopez was a beautiful Hispanic woman of about 30 years old. Her long dark hair was   
pulled back in a tight French braid, and she was dressed in a neatly pressed black pantsuit. A   
perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in Harm's direction.  
  
"My grandmother lives about 10 minutes away from this building," Harm responded defensively.  
  
"Hello, Miss Lopez. I'm Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, Cdr. Rabb's partner." Mac reached out her   
hand toward Susana.  
  
"Please call me Susana," the social worker replied politely taking the offered hand.  
  
"I'm Mac, and this is Harm." She elbowed her partner, which prompted him to reach out to shake   
Susana's hand.  
  
"I was skeptical of Gwen's interpretation of her existence until I got one look at you. If you will follow   
me in your car, I'll take you to the home where she's staying. The Masons' home is not too far from   
here," Susana proposed standing up and putting some papers in her briefcase.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to have some proof of paternity before introducing me to her?" Harm asked   
suddenly afraid. Afraid that he wasn't Gwendolyn's father and she would get hurt. Afraid that he was   
and he would screw up somehow. Afraid of everything.  
  
"As of right now, I have all the proof I need. You'll see what I mean."  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 3 


	4. Part 4

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 4/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
1745 Hours Local  
Mason Residence  
Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Mason. I'm sorry to drop by unexpectedly. Cdr. Rabb and Col. Mackenzie   
are here to meet Gwendolyn. Is this a good time?" Susana asked the older woman who   
answered the door.  
  
"Of course, dear. Please come in," Erin Mason responded with a gentle smile that could   
put anyone at ease. They exchanged introductions and handshakes.   
  
Erin Mason was a sweet woman in her late fifties. Physically, she was a slight person,   
standing only 5'4 with a slender form. She and her husband, Samuel, had been taking in   
foster children for over 30 years. They both loved children but had never been blessed with   
any of their own.   
  
"Gwen is in the girls' room reading to the younger kids. They're all crazy about her. She's   
such a sweet girl. It's a shame…Why don't we go take a seat in the den and talk. There are   
some things you should know before seeing her," Erin invited them with an uneasy expression.   
She led them into another room where they all sat down. Offers of refreshments were turned down.  
  
"What is it that you have to tell me?" Harm asked taking the lead for the first time since arriving   
in Pennsylvania.  
  
"When we were told Gwendolyn was going to be staying with us, my husband and I were informed   
that we could pick her up at the local hospital. It seems that she was in some kind of accident that   
left her with a concussion and a bruise on the side of her face. She refused to tell anyone what had   
happened. She was even questioned by the police after her mother's accident. From what I'm told,   
she wasn't very upset upon hearing the news," Erin explained looking at her hands. "When I first talked   
to Gwen, she had a tone in her voice. It was like she was cautious of every word she said."  
  
"Are you saying that you believe that her mother hitting her was the accident that put her into the   
hospital?" Mac asked knowing from personal experience, the telltale signs of abuse. She felt Harm   
tense beside her and cursed herself for not putting it any gentler.  
  
"Yes, I believe that is what I'm saying," the foster mother admitted happy that she wouldn't have to continue.  
  
"Excuse me!" the voice of a young girl interrupted them. They all looked up to see a tiny little girl with   
curly blonde hair next to a taller--much taller--brunette girl. The older girl was looking at the floor, and   
her long wavy hair hid her face.  
  
"Yes, Maggie?" Erin asked the little girl with a smile.  
  
"May I get a drink? Gwenie said that I had to ask first. She's done the story. It was good. We're   
cleaning our rooms now so that they'll be nice and pretty," Maggie frowned for a second. "Oops…It   
was supposed to be a surprise, but now I ruined it. Gwenie said you'd like it."  
  
"Yes, I would very much," she smiled at the two girls. Maggie smiled back, but her companion had   
yet to look up. "Why don't we keep this a secret, and when I go upstairs, I'll act surprised? Is that okay?"  
  
"Okay," Maggie said happily with a grin back on her face.  
  
"As for a drink, you can have some juice if Gwen pours it for you. We don't want a repeat of this   
morning, now do we?" Erin grinned at the little girl then looked at the accompanying girl. "Gwendolyn,   
you don't mind getting Maggie a drink, do you?"  
  
"It's my pleasure," Gwen responded. Her voice was flat sounding. It was most certainly the voice   
of someone who knew the wrong choice of words or tone could incite anger. "Let's go, short-stuff."  
  
Erin turned to Harm. "She's not usually that timid. She probably heard us say her name and got   
nervous. She's a great girl--helpful with the other children and around the house, polite, intelligent.   
She does her homework as soon as she comes in the door, and helps the other kids with theirs when   
she's done. She has helped me fix dinner every night that she's been staying here, and last night, she   
did it all on her own. I've never had to ask her to clean up after herself, and she's convinced all the   
others that cleaning is fun. Two nights ago, she stayed up all night watching Maggie sleep after the   
poor little darling had another nightmare of her parents fighting. I can't imagine anyone being able   
to dislike her, let alone hurt her." Her face was troubled and tears were in her eyes as she finished.  
  
"Could I go speak with her?" Harm asked breaking the silence that had plagued the room for a few   
minutes. He felt Mac squeeze his hand and half wondered when her hand had come to be in his once   
again. Mostly, he didn't care because he knew he needed it.  
  
"Yes, of course. You can go into Samuel's office at the end of the hall, and I'll send her right in," Mrs.   
Mason smiled reassuringly and stood up to go get the girl who claimed to be Harm's daughter.  
  
Harm looked at Mac who looked at him with tears running down her face, which she hadn't even   
bothered to hide. He brought his hand up to her face to wipe away her tears with his thumb. He   
knew she was thinking of her own less than happy childhood. If Gwendolyn was indeed his daughter,   
he would have more than a little making up to do.  
  
"Go," Mac mouthed to him while he sat there staring at her. She looked in his eyes as she brought his   
hand over to her lips for a sweet kiss. She smiled brightly at him, which he returned whole-heartedly.   
She watched him stand up and walked out of the room toward the office he was directed to.  
  
Susana was playing her role as the invisible companion. She sat quietly in her chair across the room   
wondering if she could possibly melt through the wall to give the two "partners" the privacy they needed.   
Fidgeting in her chair at the emotional scene, she was hoping he would leave the room before she became   
any more of a voyeur. A sigh of relief almost escaped her lips as she watched him leave.  
  
Harm had to keep reminding himself that he was a military officer during the short walk down the hall. He   
couldn't recall ever being as nervous as he was as her walked into the neat and organized bedroom-turned-  
office. His breath caught in his throat as he heard footsteps coming down the hall.  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 4 


	5. Part 5

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 5a/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
***AN: For Part 5 I'm going to try something new. They will be done in first person.   
There will be parts a (Harm's POV), b (Gwendolyn's POV), and c (Mac's POV).***  
  
~Harm's Point of View~  
  
I can't remember ever being as nervous as I am right now waiting in this small bedroom-turned-  
office. I am nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time. Part of me still can't believe that   
the young girl I had seen is my daughter. I'm not sure if I am hoping that she is my child or not, but   
I need to know. I cannot stand not knowing. For as long as I can remember, I have hated not being   
in control. I remember telling Mac once that in my world, if you lose control, you die. I've always lived   
my life by those principles, and I'm not sure I am ready to let go of that.  
  
When I hear footsteps coming down the hall, my breath catches in my throat. Oh, God. What if she   
is my daughter? What if she isn't? What if she is, and I screw up? What do I know about being a   
father--a single parent? My life is such a mess; how can I drag her into it? Can I put her needs before   
my own? Will I be able to make her my first priority--before myself, flying, JAG, the Navy? What if I can't?  
  
I'm startled out of my reverie by a throat being cleared in the doorway. I look up to stare straight into   
eyes that are exact replicas of those that stare back at me from the mirror. My gaze traces the rest of   
her face that she is no longer hiding from view with her hair, and I note that bright blue-green eyes aren't   
the only thing we have in common. Her strong features are just like my own. Her height and slender   
form are also much like mine was as a teenager--though I will never admit to having been a thin, lanky   
kid. I find myself unable to speak and hoping that she will take the initiative. I still look at her, but no   
longer do am I doing it feature by feature. I take in her entire face, and that is when I notice it.  
  
I see the dark ugly bruise that mars the beauty of her face. I'm taken back by it. I must have made some   
note of my surprise either visible or audible because she suddenly tenses and becomes uncomfortable.  
  
"It doesn't hurt as much as it seems it would," she informs me suddenly. I can see that she's become   
more guarded as she forced her voice to carry a false confidence. "It's odd, really. Half of my face is   
completely numb. It's fitting, actually."  
  
"Why is that?" I find myself asking. Her voice is so haunted and dead sounding. I have never heard a   
voice like that. Darlynn wasn't even like this, and she had witnessed her sister's murder.  
  
"I don't feel much about this all. The world keeps spinning, and people are going on with their lives. So   
am I. Why shouldn't we, right? I don't see a reason why I should have trouble moving on, and truly, I don't.   
I should, shouldn't I? My mother's dead; I should feel something," she replied. Her answer surprises me.   
I'm not sure if I expected her to respond at all. Her revealing so much to me is a shock for me.  
  
"It's perfectly normal to go into a state of shock after something as traumatic as the death of a parent.   
It's a defense mechanism," I explain clinically. I wonder absently where that knowledge came from since   
my brain seems to have taken a vacation.  
  
"Are you a psychologist or something?" she smiles at my reassurance and her shoulders loosen noticeably.   
She walks over to a chair and sits down. I follow her example and pull a chair closer to hers being careful   
to leave enough space for her to be comfortable.  
  
"No, I'm a lawyer."  
  
"And in the Navy?"  
  
"Yeah, I work for the US Navy's Judge Advocate General's office," I tell her with a small smile. I really   
hope that my telling her things about me will make her more comfortable.  
  
"That's cool. I've always wanted to be a lawyer. Well a child advocate. You know, those non-profit   
lawyers who fight for children's rights?" she informs me and I nod. I've never met a 13 year old who was   
this mature. I'm not really sure how to handle it. She looks straight into my eyes letting me know that the   
thing she says next will be important. "So you're my father?"  
  
"It seems so."  
  
"Don't sound too enthusiastic," she retorts dryly.  
  
I must admit that my response did lack gusto. I shake my head slightly acknowledging her comment.  
  
"I wish I had known. I would have been there for you. I need you to know that," I plead with her. I do   
need her to know. I need her to know that I would have never abandoned her. I would have never left her.   
I would have never hurt her or allowed her to be hurt.  
  
"I know."  
  
Those two words bring a grin to my face which, I notice, she returns.  
  
We even smile the same.  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 5a  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 5b/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
~Gwendolyn's POV~  
  
I sit in the room I share with little Maggie and try to get my heart to stop pounding. I'm hardly stupid,   
and I know that they're talking about me downstairs. I also know who's there talking about me. My father.   
A man I've never seen. That I've never met.  
  
I don't hate him. I can't. I know that my mother never told him about me. I've never even tried to contact   
him. I pull out the worn picture from my back pocket as Maggie jabbers on about something or another.   
I love her to death even after just a few days, but the girl can talk. I look at the face of the man in the photo   
and smile.   
  
That's my father. My daddy. I've always wanted to call someone that. Now I may have the opportunity.   
A shadow comes over me, and I look up.  
  
"Someone wants to meet you, Gwen," Mrs. Mason tells me with a soft wistful smile playing on her lips.   
I nod and put the picture back in the pocket of my worn-in jeans. I follow her out of the room without a word.   
I know Maggie is watching with a frown. She doesn't want me to leave.  
  
Mrs. Mason tells me to go down to the office, and I head in that direction. I don't remember this walk   
being such a trek. It seems as if hours have passed by the time I reach the open doorway.  
  
I stand there and just stare at his back. What if he doesn't want me and just wants to see me to tell me   
that? Why would he want me? I've never brought any good to anyone's life; why should he want to bother   
with me? I wished my own mother dead; what kind of person would do that? What if he's not sure? What   
if he doesn't like me and decides that his life is just fine the way it's been for the last decade plus? I'm not   
sure if I could handle that. I won't be able to let my daddy go when he's so close.  
  
I clear my throat to get his attention, and he turns around quickly. I can tell my appearance catches him   
off guard. I don't think he expected me to look like him. Maybe he didn't really expect me to be his daughter.   
I fight the urge to lower my gaze and hide my face. I don't want him to see the bruise that is the physical   
manifestation of my shame and embarrassment.  
  
He keeps staring until he suddenly gasps. I tense knowing he's seen it.  
  
"It doesn't hurt as much as it seems it would," I lie to him. The entire side of my face has been a constant   
ache for the past week. I try my best to play it off lightly. "It's odd, really. Half of my face is completely   
numb. It's fitting, actually."  
  
"Why is that?" he asks. I decide that I like his voice. It's soothing and caring. Not at all arrogant as my   
mother had described him. But then again, she had been drunk at the time. I also decide that he is   
handsome. A lot less boyish than he was in the old picture I've always carried around.  
  
"I don't feel much at all about this all," I admit to him. I feel comfortable opening up to him for some reason.   
Must be some kind of father-daughter instant-connection thing. "The world keeps spinning, and people are   
going on with their lives. So am I. Why shouldn't we, right? I don't see a reason why I should have trouble   
moving on, and truly, I don't have one. I should, shouldn't I? My mother's dead; I should feel something."  
  
"It's perfectly normal to go into a state of shock after something as traumatic as the death of a parent. It's   
a defense mechanism," he assures me. I can almost hear the experience in his voice. My curiosity is   
piqued when it comes to knowing all about him after that response.  
  
"Are you a psychologist or something?" I ask. He would make a good one, of that I'm sure. He has a caring   
and warming aura about him. He seems to care very much about people. I smile at him to let him know I   
appreciate his effort.  
  
"No, I'm a lawyer." His response surprises me. He doesn't seem like a lawyer. I've always imagined   
them as dishonest types. I'm not sure yet if this man is even capable of a lie.  
  
"And in the Navy?" I push on. I want to know more.  
  
"Yeah, I work for the US Navy's Judge Advocate General's office," he says proudly. It makes me proud, too.   
At least he isn't one of those rich lawyers who would do anything to get their guilty-as-sin client off so that they   
get paid. I really dislike liars.  
  
"That's cool. I've always wanted to be a lawyer," I tell him. "Well, a child advocate. You know, those   
non-profit lawyers who fight for children's rights?" He nods and looks at me with something in his eyes   
I don't recognize. I can only hope it is love and pride since I've never seen it before. I look him straight in   
the eyes to demonstrate the importance of what I will say next. "So you're my father?"  
  
"It seems so," he replies flatly.  
  
"Don't sound too enthusiastic," I say back with a quiet snort.  
  
He shakes his head slightly.  
  
"I wish I had known. I would have been there for you. I need you to know that," he tells me wholeheartedly.  
  
"I know," I assure him. I mean it, too. I now know that I won't have to worry about him leaving. We smile   
at one another.  
  
I have my daddy, now.  
  
To Be Continued…  
  
End of Part 5b  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 5c/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
~Mac's POV~  
  
I've always hated crying. I've always hated crying in front of Harm the most. I've cried so   
many time over him but so few times in front of him. That time when we thought Clayton Webb   
was dead was one of the few. I know he wouldn't think less of me, but I hate to make him think I'm   
weak like his other--no, I mean, all his old girlfriends. I don't need him to think that I need him.  
  
I want him. As I told Sturgis, I'm in love with him. That is what is making me cry now. Right down   
the hall, he is talking with a young girl who had a childhood so much like my own, and that young girl   
is possibly his daughter. No child deserves to be hurt--That is how I know Harm feels. If an abuse   
case where de didn't know any of the victims personally hits him down deep, his own daughter's case   
will tear directly at his heart.  
  
I try not to think about the pain he must be feeling right now, but really, it's impossible not to. I hate to   
see him in pain knowing there is nothing that I can do to stop it. It stabs at not only the marine in me   
who can't let a fellow officer down, but the woman who loves him more than life itself.  
  
I look up to see Mrs. Mason looking over at me with concern etched on her aging features. I give her   
a little smile as if to say "I'll be okay," and she in turn, smiles back softly. I can't help liking this gentle   
woman. It hurts to think that there is no young adult out there who knows her as "mom," but I guess there   
are really a few that have known her kindness and care.  
  
"Sarah, dear, have the two of you eaten supper?" Mrs. Mason asks me. I find it hard to believe that I   
forgot all about eating.  
  
"No, actually. We both had other things on our minds," I admit sheepishly. Wouldn't Harm get a kick   
out of this any other day? I can just imagine him making jokes about marines and food.  
  
"Why don't you go and suggest dinner for the two of you with Gwen? I'm sure that once you get back   
to Washington, you'll be a pretty big part of her life."   
  
'I hope to be,' I want to say, but I'm not sure if I could handle getting close to a child only to find out she   
belongs with someone else.  
  
Or Harm deciding he'd rather have another woman in their lives.  
  
"I...That sound like a good idea. Thank you."  
  
I stand up and walk down the hall. When I approach the door and look in, Harm looks up immediately   
and smiles. I take one glance at the female occupant of the room and no longer have any doubts.  
  
This girl is Harm's daughter.  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
End of Part 5c  
  
End of Part 5 


	6. Part 6

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 6/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
1845 Hours Local  
Suzette's Diner  
Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
"Gwen, how do you do in school," Mac asked the obviously uncomfortable girl.   
She was hoping that an ongoing conversation would help her relax. Since she   
was apparently smart, one could assume that school would be a good subject.  
  
"Great. As off right now, I have 3 A-pluses and 3 A's. I get a period off at the end   
of the day to help out the Special Ed class," Gwen told the two adults trying to play   
it off as if her incredibly good grades were not that big of a deal.  
  
"Wow. My parents would have died if I brought in only one of those grades in high   
school," Harm chuckled looking at her. Gwen laughed softly with him.  
  
Mac laughed along with them. "What, flyboy, too busy trying to charm all the   
cheerleaders?" This made Gwen laugh harder.  
  
"Well, that and basketball did take up a lot of my time," Harm retorted not bothering   
to explain that he had never dated a cheerleader. They probably wouldn't have even   
talked to him if he weren't the school's star basketball player.  
  
"You played basketball?" Gwen questioned with hope in her eyes. Sports had always   
been something that she wished to be good at. "Do you play any sports now?"  
  
"I was 6'2 by 9th grade; it was sort of assumed that I would play basketball. Now I play   
basketball, baseball, softball, soccer, and football when my friend Keeter is in town and   
decides it would be fun. We regret it the next day though. Do you play any?" Harm asked.  
  
Gwen shook her head. "I've always wanted to, but I'm more of an academic type person.   
I never really tried to play. Besides," she looked down and blushed, "I don't know how to   
play any."  
  
"Well, then, I guess we have some plans to make. Are you involved with anything?" Harm   
asked keeping the conversation going.  
  
"Ballet. I've been dancing since I was 4 years old. I actually have class tomorrow night,"   
Gwen told them. She paused and looked down. She knew there was something that   
needed to be brought up, but she didn't want to let her insecurities show through the image   
she was projecting. Taking a deep breath, she stopped beating around the bush. "So am   
I going to need to transfer classes? Am I leaving with you, or are you going to sign away your   
rights? I wouldn't blame you; it would be a lot less hassle. I just need to know."  
  
"As soon as all the paperwork goes through, I want you to come live with me in DC. That is,   
if that's what you want. I'll need to get a new place though and kick my little brother out, but I   
do want you with me. Really, I do," Harm assured her reaching for her hand and giving a tight   
squeeze.  
  
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE SUCH AN IMBECILE!" a woman at a table behind Gwen shouted   
at her companion.   
  
Hearing the shout, Gwen tensed and closed her eyes. The reassurance her father gave her   
slipped away as she went back to living in fear with her mother in her mind. The shouting woman   
turned into Lydia Harding, and Gwen took the place of the intimidated little man sitting at the table.   
The shouts quickly turned into curses, and the curses changes into blows. The blows left bruises.  
  
"Let's go, Harm," Mac insisted, and Harm didn't argue. He reached for Gwen's arm and helped   
her up. Leaving a wad of bills on the table, they left the restaurant without Gwen ever looking up.   
  
She was completely absorbed in her nightmare reality.  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
End of Part 6 


	7. Part 7

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 7/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
The next day...  
0700 Hours Local  
Mason Residence  
Belleville, Pennsylvania  
  
Gwen woke up to find a tall figure slumped in a chair beside her bed. Once   
her vision cleared, she recognized her father's face and smiled. She remembered   
very little of the night before. All she could recall with any clarity was Harm telling her   
that he did want her. In a chair next to her father was Mac. She was awake and watching   
the girl watch her father sleep.  
  
"Looks peaceful, doesn't he?" Mac whispered with a small smile playing on her lips. Gwen   
grew to like Mac more and more every time she spoke to her. It seemed that she was always   
trying to make her more comfortable and safer. Something told the unusually wise young girl   
that the marine understood what she was going through probably from personal experience.  
  
"He does. His face isn't nearly as tense as it was earlier. Is he always like that?" Gwen whispered   
back sliding out of bed. She was wearing her favorite pajamas, dark blue flannel pants with a matching   
short sleeved button-down shirt and didn't recall how she came to be in them. She found that to be   
slightly disconcerting, but she didn't bother concentrating on it for very long. She took the blanket from   
her bed and laid it over her dad's sleeping form.  
  
Mac got up and led the way out of the room before responding. "He has his obsessions. He feels   
things strongly and takes guilt for all things wrong around him. He likes making things right for people   
and can't stand not being able to fix things in the lives of people he cares about."  
  
"He's like that with you?" Gwen pried wanting to know more about the lives of her father and the   
woman who was obviously very close to him.  
  
"Sometimes," Mac replied with a strange expression on her face. They walked down the stairs and to   
the den together. They both plopped down on the couch. The two laughed when they realized that they   
had sat the same way with their legs tucked under them.  
  
"And other times?" the younger urged gently.  
  
"And other times, he is just like every other guy on the planet and just adds to my troubles." That made   
them both chuckle.  
  
"So you two are dating?"  
  
"No." Her response was firm.  
  
"Is that the problem?"  
  
"When we get to Washington, there is this man Sturgis Turner that works with your father and me that you   
have to meet," Mac shook her and rolled her eyes.  
  
"You're in the Navy, too?" Gwen asked surprised. She had never met a female military officer, and when   
she looked at the woman next to her, she didn't think military.  
  
"No, I'm a marine lawyer with Jag." Mac laughed at the girl's wide eyes. "What? You don't think I could   
handle the Corps?"  
  
"No, it's no that. Really. It's just...when I think female marine, I think butch, muscular he-woman with a   
half-dozen tattoos," Gwen said. "No offense. I've readjusted my image in the past few seconds, though."  
  
"Well, she does have a tattoo in a location that has remained classified for the past few years," Harm   
joked entering the room still half asleep. "How'd you sleep, Gwen?"  
  
"I should be asking you that," she retorted looking at both of them. "You know, the both of you probably   
didn't get any sleep last night. Why don't you go to the hotel or where ever you are staying, and get some   
shut eye." She noticed Harm opening his mouth to argue and stopped him. "You can come pick me up at   
6:00 for my Pointe class, or better, we can get some dinner around 5. You are no good to anyone without   
any sleep."  
  
Seeing the logic in her argument, they didn't bother protesting and left to go to Harm's grandmother's   
farm where they were going to be staying. Gwen went to help Mrs. Mason prepare breakfast trying to   
focus on the day ahead of her instead of the evening behind.  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
End of Part 7 


	8. Part 8

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 8/?  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
**AN: I wasn't planning on having anything happen in this time gap I skip; that's why I'm not   
boring you with a dozen parts with no point. Also, no idea how long it would really take for   
custody to be granted, but for my fic's sake, it is a week. A big thanks goes out to all who   
have written me feedback, and also to those who have stuck with me this far.**  
  
Two Weeks Later...  
1945 Hours Local  
Nadia's Academy of Classical Ballet  
Alexandria, Virginia  
  
"Okay, ladies, gentlemen, you did great. I'll see you all at your next class," Nadia Muldov   
told her class at the end of the Pointe class.  
  
Gwen walked over to where her father and Mac were sitting, her dance shoes making her   
steps awkward. Since there were no available chairs and both adults looked too exhausted   
to give up their seats, she sat down on her father's knee to take her shoes off her aching feet.   
If anyone ever told her dance wasn't a sport, she was going to sentence them to an hour in her   
shoes--literally. The tight hard shoes killed her feet after extended periods of wear, and she   
had been in Pointe class for the last 2 years. (Sorry, the dancer in me had to include that)  
  
Over the past week, Gwen had become more comfortable around her dad and Mac. Which   
was good because ever since her arrival in DC, she had been staying in Mac's guest bedroom.   
They quickly discovered that the small apartment north of Union Station was not nearly big enough   
for Harm, herself, and Sergei, so Mac offered her extra room to Gwendolyn. Harm, by default,   
had ended up spending the week on his friend's couch. The short seven days that she had been   
living in Washington had been great and full of more laughs than she had her entire life. She felt   
as relaxed in their presence as she did when she was dancing, and that said much for the company.   
Her normally tense shoulders were loose, and her emotionless voice began to carry a wide range of   
tones. It was nice. It was like having a real family.  
  
"I'm ready," Gwen announced after slipping her feet into her new clogs.  
  
"Good `cause my leg was starting to go numb, kiddo," Harm joked receiving a playful   
push from his daughter and a slap from Mac. The past week for him had been straight out of   
one of his dreams. From arguing over the movie of the evening or who would cook dinner, the   
time spent by the four of them at Mac's Georgetown apartment could only be described as domestic.   
Now if only he could tell Mac the reason why he had been asking her opinion on every house he had   
checked out...  
  
"I was thinking pizza for dinner. How about you guys?" Mac asked standing up and stretching though   
her uniform made the action difficult.  
  
"Sounds good," both Rabbs replied at the same time making the small group smile. They walked   
out of the studio together laughing and joking like...well, like a family.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
The next day (let's pretend that it's a Saturday)...  
1230 Hours Local  
A quiet secluded house  
Alexandria, Virginia  
  
"Gwendolyn, your father mentioned that you do ballet and would like to plant a garden, so   
when I came across this home, I knew it would be perfect," the blonde female realtor called   
Darla flashed a perfect smile at Gwen. She then turned her attention to Harm who was standing   
with Mac. "It's priced a little higher than what we discussed, but if it's to your liking, I'm sure we   
can figure something out." Harm nodded, and she continued. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you   
around the inside."  
  
Harm, Gwen, and Mac followed the young woman up the path to the porch and into the house   
all three enchanted by the beautiful landscaping and architecture that they could see in the front.   
Inside was even more amazing. The front hall had a high ceiling with skylights, and there was a   
stair case that led to the second floor (since that is generally what they do) in the center. Darla led   
them past the stairs deeper into the home. Behind the staircase was a set of French doors that   
she opened and motioned them to enter.  
  
They were now in the living room that was as impressive as everything that they had seen so far   
if not more so. There was no furniture, but the room was still large with large windows lining the   
back wall.  
  
"This room gets a lot of natural light with the numerous windows since it faces the east. The   
carpets are brand new as they were purchased just after the former owners moved out due to   
age and wear. This room to our right is the one that made me think of you."  
  
Darla led them into a large room that Gwen instantly recognized as a private dance room. The   
floors were covered in lighted brown hardwood, and like the living room, the wall facing the backyard   
had large windows that gave the room a bright look. The wall opposite the windows was all mirror,   
and there was a barre that made the room the perfect place to rehearse. Gwen looked around the   
room wide eyed with a big grin that she showed to her dad.  
  
The realtor continued the tour showing them the large white kitchen, the formal and family dining rooms,   
the parlor, and the bedrooms. The tour was completed on the back deck where they could see the large   
and empty back yard.  
  
"My guess is that the former occupants didn't bother to do up the back yard because not many   
people would see it. There is plenty of room to put in a pool, and it's fenced in if you plan on getting   
a dog or already have one. And since all the trees have been removed from the yard, there is plenty   
of sunlight for your rose garden, Gwen," the woman told the youngest client who seemed to be the one   
who always made the final decision at all the houses she showed the family.  
  
"I love it, daddy," Gwen murmured to her father.  
  
"How far away is the closest neighbor?" Harm asked wanting to get every detail before he made any   
decision--or went along with Gwen's.  
  
"About a city block in each direction, and this property extends about half that distance so you won't   
have to worry about more homes or buildings being constructed very close by," Darla responded.  
  
"What do you two think?" Harm asked Gwen and Mac who both only replied with wide eyes and big   
smiles. He had his answer.  
  
The next day, there was a sold sign in front of what was now the new Rabb residence.  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
End of Part 8 


	9. Part 9 (End)

See Part 1 for disclaimer and story information.  
  
Mains Froides, Coeur Chaud: Part 9/9  
By LissaMarie MelMarie612@aol.com  
  
The next weekend...  
1435 Hours Local  
Rabb Residence   
Alexandria, Virginia  
  
"Where should we put this?" Sergei asked Mac and Gwen as they watched him   
and Harm carrying a rather large box into the house. The girls had decided that it   
was time for them to take a break and just watch the guys do the heavy lifting. Now   
they sat eating pizza on couch in the living room.  
  
"Just put it in the corner, and I'll go through it tonight," Gwen responded taking a big bite   
of her meat lover's pizza. Much to her father's dismay, it was one of the things she and   
Mac discovered that they had in common.  
  
"Gee, thanks for all your help today. I'm not sure we could have done all this without you,"   
Harm told them sarcastically as he and his brother approached the two ladies after putting   
the box where they were told to. He plopped down next to Mac and opened the veggie pizza   
box to get his lunch.  
  
"We helped!" Mac insisted pulling her feet under her and unconsciously moving closer to   
Harm.  
  
"Yes. The Colonel and Gwendolyn did bring a few boxes," Sergei admitted with a smirk.   
"One or two boxes were brought in by them."  
  
"Very funny, Sergei. Very funny," Gwen said shouldering her uncle playfully. The two of   
them had hit it off almost as quickly as she had with her father and Mac. Gwen was glad the   
people in her dad's life were so easy to get along with.  
  
The four stretched out on the couch and munched on the pizza while surveying all the boxes   
that would need to be unpacked. Of course, Sergei and Mac could always just leave that to   
Harm and Gwen, but they knew that they would help. If they didn't do it voluntarily, they'd be   
guilt-tripped into it anyway. For the moment though, it felt good to just relax in the company   
of friends.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
2230 Hours Local  
Rabb Residence  
Alexandria, Virginia  
  
Gwen had just gone to sleep, and Sergei left hours earlier. Now Harm and Mac were left   
alone on the front porch of the new Rabb home.  
  
"Harm, did you ever imagine your life this way?" Mac whispered staring out at the star filled   
night sky.  
  
"Hardly," harm admitted with a chuckle. Without a thought, he put his arm along the back of   
the bench behind Mac's shoulders.  
  
"Do you wish things were different?"  
  
"At times."  
  
"If you could go back and do things differently, what would you change?" She turned toward   
him and brought her legs up onto the bench behind her.  
  
"Well, I'd change a lot of things. I would have been there for Gwen--for Lydia as an extension   
to that. I wouldn't have held off as long with Diane. I wouldn't have messed up my career   
by taking the back step to flying again. I would have been clearer on the ferry. I would have--"  
  
"What did you say?" Mac asked looking at him with wide eyes.  
  
"When?" Harm asked trying to buy himself some time.  
  
"Don't 'When?' me, Harmon Rabb!"  
  
"I said I would have been clearer on the Ferry in Sydney."  
  
"What does that mean?" Mac asked getting frustrated with his vague responses.  
  
Harm seem to sense that and began to rectify the problem. "What I mean is I would have   
stressed the 'Not yet' part of our conversation. I would have tried to make you see that I wanted   
more than just one night with you. I wasn't ready just than to let go of everything and put you first.   
I wasn't sure if I could at that time. I didn't want to risk losing you because I couldn't control my--  
for lack of a better word--urges. You're my best friend first and foremost, and at that time, I was   
still trying to get back what I lost when I left to fly."  
  
Mac sat quietly contemplating his words. They were almost the words she had been waiting to   
hear for so long, but was she really ready to believe them? After only a few minutes of silence,   
she couldn't take it any longer.  
  
"What are you really saying?"  
  
"You know what I'm saying," Harm answered cryptically finding himself unable to say any more   
through the lump that had appeared in his throat.  
  
"No, Harm. I really don't. I haven't heard what I've been wanting to hear yet," Mac told him firmly   
needing the words to come from his lips.  
  
"What do you need to hear, Sarah?" he asked standing up and pacing the length of the porch.   
"That I need you in my life? I do. That I don't think that I could handle being with out you? Well,   
I couldn't. That since the moment that I met you, I thought you were the most fascinating, amazing   
woman I had ever met? I have. That I love you? Because I do." He paused and looked straight in   
his best friend's eyes. "I love you, Sarah Mackenzie."  
  
"I love you, too, Harmon Rabb Jr.," Mac responded standing up and walking over to him. She   
stopped in front of him, and they both just stood there and stared at one another.  
  
"It's not just me any more," he reminded her of the young girl sleeping upstairs.  
  
"Well, I love Gwen, too, so I don't see a problem."  
  
"That's good," Harm mumbled just before his lips closed over hers. The kiss quickly turned   
passionate, and the two were wrapped up in each other's arms, completely oblivious to the world.  
  
Oblivious also to Gwen who was watching and listening from the screened door.  
  
~The End~ 


End file.
